A Twisted Sense of Forever
by Vespal
Summary: The Boy Saviour, the Uncertain Prince, and the Ravenclaw Sister have crossed paths, all curiously to do with Gringotts Wizarding Bank and a whisper of You-Know-Who. (Post DH, PG13, In-Progress Plot)
1. The Official Public Epilogue

So, this is only my second fic (The first never saw the end) so you'll have to be a little patient with me. I do have to warn you that while this won't be updated by any definition of quickly, I am planning on finishing it. I just need a little time to get there. You might just want to wait until it's finished.

* * *

**Title: **A Twisted Sense of Forever  
**Pairings:** Currently only Draco/Harry  
**Setting:** Post Deathly Hallows (A little modification done in the events of the seventh book.)  
**Rating:** T  
**Disclaimer:** The following is a work of fiction based on the characters and events of the Harry Potter series, written and trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership to any of the characters I have borrowed and tortured from her franchise. Said torturing occurs for the lone purpose of free entertainment and does not dare to call itself part of the official storyline. No financial profit will be gained from the creation and publication of such torturing. I'd like to express my gratitude to J.K. Rowling, without whom, my childhood would have been dull, and my fascination with the martyrdom, persecution, and distress of her characters unexplored.

* * *

**Alert: ****To anyone who has already been following this fic, please go back and read it again. I've massively reworked a lot of the plotline, which you will miss without rereading the first two chapters. Plus, the original first chapter has been split into two, so the previous second chapter is now the third chapter, and all of them have gotten longer. Good? Okay, you may go.**

* * *

**Chapter One: The Official Public Epilogue**

* * *

**1998 - Year of the Hogwarts Battle**

**The Grapevine Chronicle - May 15th**  
_Dark Lord Defeated at Last!_  
We are all shaken by the Death Eater attack on Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and many families have since pulled their students from the boarding school. But since the occurrence of what is being called the greatest battle since Grindelwald's fall, many wizards are returning to abandoned areas, opening up shops and raising children. You-Know-Who's influence has been purged from our ministry, and citizens are feeling safer than ever before. The war is finally over, although this reporter still wonders if he might find a way to return once again.

_o_

**The Daily Prophet - June 5th**  
_Mass Death Eater Conviction In Progress_  
After You-Know-Who fell earlier this summer, many assumed that this would be the end of the war. But now, similarly to the previous lull in the ongoing battle, many Death Eaters are claiming to have been under the influence of the Imperius Curse, and therefore, can not be held accountable for their actions. The Prosecution Office is swamped with requests for retrials, mistrials, appeals, and pleads of Not Guilty for a myriad of improbable excuses. After attempting to assign each of the accused their own defense attorney, the court has begun to form groups by the nature of the plea, which has sped along the conviction process. Following is a list of the convicted so far: Augustus Rookwood, Antonin Dolohov, Fenrir Greyback, Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange...

_o_

**Two Cents - September 12th**  
_Malfoy Gets Three Years_  
Controversy sparks when Draco Malfoy, son of known Death Eater Lucius Malfoy is given just three years in a high security prison and five years probation for his crimes of attempted murder, association with a known criminal, and participation in Death Eater attacks on several muggle towns. A large contingent of primarily pureblood witches and wizards demands that he be let off in a lighter manner, on account of the influence his overbearing father lorded over him. However, the opposing argument, more widely favored among muggleborns and the less traditional portion of the population, calls for harsher measures, considering the havoc he has wreaked among muggles and muggleborns while one of You-Know-Who's followers. Some members of the latter opinion suspect foul play in the Ministry, when the prosecution's request of a retrial falls through, even when Harry Potter himself asks to testify. When asked for his thoughts on the matter, Mr. Potter says that Malfoy "should stay in prison longer than just three years," and that he "didn't know there was a trial, otherwise [he] would have testified and gotten that [expletive] a longer sentence.

* * *

**2001**

**Knut for the News - October 15th**  
_Draco Malfoy: New Death Eater King?_  
An attack on the Ministry yesterday, allegedly executed by former Death Eaters, left two dead, seven wounded, and even more potential victims had it not been for the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter himself, who was visiting a friend in the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Aurors are already investigating, and although no official comment has been given, an inside source confirms suspicions of Death Eater association with the attack. Coincidentally, Draco Malfoy, who served three years in a high security detention facility for Death Eater activity, was discharged last week. Upon investigation, it has been confirmed that Malfoy returned to his family's manor at that time, and hasn't been seen since. A neighbor comments that she heard "strange yells and cracks of apparition coming from the house." Has another Death Eater uprising come our way? And if so, will the Ministry hasten to cover it up in the same fashion as it did Mr. Malfoy's curiously short sentence?

_o_

**The Daily Prophet - October 21st**  
_Malfoy Lead on DE Attack Dropped_  
Tempers peak as aurors officially declare Draco Malfoy to be innocent of involvement with the attack on the Ministry one week ago. One of the aurors working the case, who asks that his name not be disclosed, stated that "Mr. Malfoy had a rock solid alibi at the time the incident occurred. There's no way he could have been there." However, when asked why isn't being considered as a conspirator, our source won't say anything more on the subject.  
Harry Potter, who is apparently still stinging from being unable to testify at Malfoy's trial, apparently views his innocence in a very different light than the aurors, and decided to take justice into his own hands last Thursday, when he was spotted at Malfoy Manor outside the gate, screaming expletives and less than friendly requests for an audience. When at last his demands were met, and Harry was admitted into the Manor itself, there was little more to hear until a team of emergency healers arrived on scene. According to witnesses, Harry Potter was the sole guest of the ambulance that arrived at St. Mungo's.

_o_

**The Yellow Canary - November 29th**  
_Malfoy Gardener Reports Suspicious Activity_  
Lucius Malfoy, who was initially arrested under charges of murder in the first and second degree, and was later charged with aggravated assault, voluntary manslaughter, and embezzlement, has allegedly resided in Azkaban for the last three years. Eyewitnesses testify to seeing the elder Malfoy in his cell at Azkaban, but Mr. Elijah Green, the Malfoy gardener, claims he saw the elder Malfoy on the property several times. A permit for the inspection of the Malfoy Manor was signed, and aurors grudgingly admitted. After further investigation, and the twenty-hour detainment of Draco Malfoy, previously convicted of similar felonies, the investigation was dropped.

* * *

**2002**

**The Quibbler - January 7th**  
_Wrackspurts Strike Again_  
As all our readers will surely know, the Wrackspurt is a creature full of deceit, prone to nesting in your ears during a swim in freshwater. Once settled in one's ear, it sets about connecting itself to your subconscious and inserting its own will into your thoughts without making itself known to you. Although not acknowledged in the official Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures and Beings, it is certainly among some of the most dangerous creatures you may come across in the magical, and even muggle world, having possessed some of the more well known leaders of history, including Fingle Fitzgerald, Septimus Tugwood, and most recently, You-Know-Who and many of his followers. Classic signs include sudden changes of heart, status, and location, as well as a tendency towards violence, self-isolation, and dislike of the spotlight, not to mention bouts of delirium and fuzzy-mindedness.  
This rare creature seems to have struck again, more quickly than history might suggest. Its victim? Draco Malfoy.

_o_

**Two Cents - Febuary 23rd**  
_Malfoy Manor Deserted_  
As suspicions again arises in light of the recent Death Eater propaganda stunt performed in Diagon Alley yesterday, aurors logically turn to every known Death Eater currently un-incarcerated, including Draco Malfoy, who has resided quietly in his family's manor since he was released from his 3-year-long term in Brackwood's. The aurors were to be disappointed, however, and found the manor empty, apparently for several days. A warrant has been procured for Malfoy's arrest under suspicion and probable cause, and the Auror Office requests any information pertaining to a potential sighting to be sent by owl to their inbox.

* * *

Okay, so is the date thing sort've confusing? I wasn't sure, but I hope you followed it well enough. Please review with any comments or concerns.


	2. What Became of the Death Eater's Son

******Disclaimer:** The following is a work of fiction based on the characters and events of the Harry Potter series, written and trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership to any of the characters I have borrowed and tortured from her franchise. Said torturing occurs for the lone purpose of free entertainment and does not dare to call itself part of the official storyline. No financial profit will be gained from the creation and publication of such torturing. I'd like to express my gratitude to J.K. Rowling, without whom, my childhood would have been dull, and my fascination with the martyrdom, persecution, and distress of her characters unexplored.

* * *

******Alert: ****To anyone who has already been following this fic, please go back and read it again. I've massively reworked a lot of the plotline, which you will miss without rereading the first two chapters. Plus, the original first chapter has been split into two, so the previous second chapter is now the third chapter, and all of them have gotten longer. Good? Okay, you may go.**

* * *

**Chapter Two: What Became of the Death Eater's Son**

* * *

**2002 - 4 years after the 2nd Fall of Voldemort**

**January 7th:**

Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,

As a representative of the Ersewhile College, I am pleased to inform you that you qualify for a place at our university. Please find enclosed details on housing, job parameters, and necessary qualifications.

Before acceptance, we would like to arrange a meeting with the Head of the Potions Department. We await your owl arranging a date by no later than February 30th.

Regards,  
Alexandra Spinks  
Contact Representative of EC

* * *

**January 11th:**

To Whom It May Concern,

I would like very much to procure a position at your establishment. I have made reservations at The Sphinx's Tongue in Herne Bay at six o' clock, January fifteenth. Please respond concerning your availability.

Yours Sincerely,  
Draco Malfoy

* * *

**January 12th:**

Mr. Malfoy,

I look forward to meeting you. Enclosed, I have attached several documents for you to look over before our meeting.

Kind Regards,  
Harold Perkins

* * *

**January 15th: Malfoy Manor, 5:20 p.m.**

Malfoys, as a rule, made a point not to possess more than an appropriately scant wardrobe of muggle outfits, appear in muggle public any more than was strictly necessary, or consort with muggles in any setting free from such a requirement. By now, Draco had surpassed this unspoken law in more ways than he had ever thought possible. Muggle London was becoming a well-trodden domicile in which he was as far from a lord as he ever been, something he had become unpleasantly accustomed to. He knew the names of the bartenders at several of the backstreet bars in which muggles broke into fights more often than not, and the clothing attendants in Norton & Sons had even coined him a name (which he would rather not repeat), so often did he frequent their store. At this point, the most he could hope to do was to cling to the last shred of dignity he had, and continue to charm his appearance when he left the house. It was, after all, better to be known a hermit than a muggle-lover.

This was what was going through his head when he stood before his closet, a critical eye running over his neglected collection of dress robes. A meeting with a wizarding college could hardly be conducted in a muggle area, even for lunch, but for dinner, such a requirement was even more imperative. Most of his dress robes had gone out of style years ago, as one could hardly be expected to keep up with current fashions while donning an orange jumpsuit as a permanent fixture. He suspected he would have to start looking for another discreet tailor who's interests were more economically focused and spruce up his poor wardrobe. And the fact that he was thinner than he'd ever been before was another matter entirely.

With this in his mind, he managed to fit something together that seemed as modest as he was going to get out of his upscale, so-four-years-ago fashion and would be a reasonable style of dress for the evening, and flooed to dinner.

_o_

**The Sphinx's Tongue, 5:56 p.m.**

Draco glanced into the mirror and brushed the soot from his makeshift outfit as he passed, thinking rather highly of his sense of fashion.

The restaurant that he had booked was somewhat fancy, but not so much that it could charge more than the food was worth. It was too early to be trying to impress colleges with his money, particularly when he didn't have any, and everyone who read any wizarding paper would know. He could sell the manor, he supposed, but the thought of anyone getting their grimy little hands on his family's shining legacy sickened him.

At the front, he was met with a cheerful waitress who, upon realizing who her patron was, promptly smiled disdainfully and asked for his name. Knowing fully well she knew who he was, Draco straightened, gave his name in the cool, neutral manner he had perfected, ignoring the fact that it had since become as trademarked as he former sneer. Then, of course, she made a show of searching for the reservation, to which he managed to turn a blind eye. When she had given up trying his temper, she led him to a table for two near the back of the restaurant, next to a window overlooking the surf. Out of habit, he reached into his pocket for a tip, and stopped only when he found nothing but pocket lint. The waitress smirked, plopped down a menu, and left.

Attempting an internal pep talk, Draco brushed a hand through his hair and turned away from the rest of the patrons, all of whom seemed to be sneaking glances and glares at him. The table was somewhat plain, saved only by the delicate green cloth draped diagonally over the chestnut. A tall white candle stood in the middle, unlit. Over the back of one of the chairs hung a shabby brown cloak, something that seemed out of place even in such a casually fancy establishment as this. The fabric was faded and ripped, not something Draco would expect from a private college, and it was with wand in hand that he settled down in the chair opposite.

"Well that worked out well," a voice said from behind him, it's tone dryly sarcastic. "I show up early to impress, and you catch me in the loo."

Draco turned, gripping his wand and saw the last person he expected to meet circling around to extend a hand.

"Professor Lupin," Draco acknowledged, raising an eyebrow and ignoring the offered hand. "I was under the impression of meeting a Mr. Harold Perkins."

"Right. Well, I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me," the professor murmured calmly, holding out his hand a moment more before giving up and brushing it over his shirt.

"Did you knock him out then? I told you people already; I'm not interested."

"I'm doing well, thanks for asking." Lupin adjusted his robes on the chair and sat down. His dusty brown hair swung lightly as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, and looked at Draco with powdery gray eyes. "And you, Draco? I heard you held onto the manor, but it's certainly been quiet these days, even after all the talk in the papers."

Draco's expression went colder, if that was possible. "I've held on to my dignity as well, Professor. Now, as you're not who I meant to meet tonight, you'll have to excuse me." He rose from his seat and swept up his coat to head for the door, but Lupin's hand shot out and wrapped a firm grip around his wrist.

"Wait."

Caught by the surprisingly strong and bony grip, Draco sneered disdainfully, but stopped and stood still. Lupin looked hard at the blonde for a moment more before releasing his grip on Draco's wrist and folding his hands on the table. "I have a proposal."

"I've heard all your proposals. I'm going to leave now," he replied coldly, turning away once again.

"You haven't heard this one."

Draco paused, deliberating. He stood as if watching the crowds, an infant making a mess of his dinner, a woman batting her eyes flirtatiously at her companion.

"It's a good one too. Away from the public eye."

Slowly, Draco turned and, looking warily at the man's calm, serious expression, Draco slowly settled back into the chair. "What kind of proposal?"

* * *

**January 9th: Malfoy Manor**

"Hello Draco, my name is Padma Patil, I'm here to help you with the moving and all that."

_o_

**Dragon's Hollow**

"I don't see anything," Draco said flatly, staring at the blank dirt clearing in front of him.

"Oh!" Padma fumbled around in her pockets, finally producing a crumpled scrap of paper. "Here," she said triumphantly, handing it to him.

Draco scanned the skinny hand-writing he recognized from third year DADA which read:

"Dragon's Hollow- between the pine tree and the rock shaped like an acorn. Enjoy."

In response, Draco scowled darkly. "Very original. Does he think he's being clever?" he asked no one in particular, and his irritation only increased when he looked up and still nothing had appeared in the empty space. "Okay, where's this stupid acorn rock?"

"Right there," Padma said, pointing, and Draco could just barely make out a rock, about the size of his head, nestled in the grass at the edge of the clearing opposite the towering pine he had spotted first. It didn't look much like an acorn to him, but his opinion didn't seem to matter the spell, which began to draw back the wards over his sight, revealing an old bungalow, two stories high with what looked like an attic on top. There was a short rock wall, more of a border really, that ran all the way around the house, interrupted only once by a little brown picket gate. Brambly bushes tumbled over it, flooding the small yard with their prickly leaves.

"Do I get a gardener?" Draco asked flippantly.

Padma remained unmoved. "We can't spare anyone we trust, but if you like, we can give you an elf. He used to belong to the Blacks, so I'm sure you'll get along spectacularly."

Draco was mildly annoyed. "Of course I want an elf. I'm not one for menial labor, you know."

She sent him an exasperated glance and sighed. "I'm arrange it. Come in, I'll show you the house."

_o_

A kitchen, breakfast nook, potions lab, 2 bathrooms, and 3 bedrooms later, they sat at the table in the aforementioned breakfast nook, quietly sipping their tea and staring out the window at a lonely bare patch of recently tilled dirt.

"Remus was here earlier and prepared it for you," Padma was explaining. "You can plant some potions ingredients, or I suppose, really anything you want."

Draco was quiet. The reality of his decision was finally hitting him. This wasn't just a change of scenery. By moving here, he was confirming a change of heart, career, and entire life. Too late, he wondered if he really wanted what he had gotten himself into by signing Lupin's stupid contract. Could he really be 'ready to bear arms and defend at request in the case of serious need?' To stand behind Potter and his gang in the way he had never wanted to do?

Recognizing the lack of response as the introspection it was, Padma gathered up her dishes, said her goodbyes, and took her leave. Draco, who had continued to be unresponsive and absorbed in his thoughts, remained sitting pensively in the alcove while his tea cooled and the sun set and rose again.

* * *

Okay, so the name of the restaurant is bad. Really bad. I apologize. Heartily. If any of you would like to suggest something better, please do.

Also, I've never been to the UK, and have certainly never sought out upscale menswear, so if anyone would like to point me to a better name to appear for one sentence in this fic, I'd appreciate it.


	3. How the Ravenclaw Sister Bloomed

******Disclaimer:** The following is a work of fiction based on the characters and events of the Harry Potter series, written and trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership to any of the characters I have borrowed and tortured from her franchise. Said torturing occurs for the lone purpose of free entertainment and does not dare to call itself part of the official storyline. No financial profit will be gained from the creation and publication of such torturing. I'd like to express my gratitude to J.K. Rowling, without whom, my childhood would have been dull, and my fascination with the martyrdom, persecution, and distress of her characters unexplored.

* * *

******Alert: ****To anyone who has already been following this fic, please go back and read it again. I've massively reworked a lot of the plotline, which you will miss without rereading the first two chapters. Plus, the original first chapter has been split into two, so the previous second chapter is now the third chapter, and all of them have gotten longer. Good? Okay, you may go.**

* * *

**Chapter Three: How the Ravenclaw Sister Bloomed**

* * *

Padma Patil had grown to be a successful woman. Despite the rough bump Hogwarts had hit in seventh year and the disappearance of her sister, she had continued to study the subtle arts of Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, both of which had led to her success in the Ministry. After school, she had pursued a temporary year long assignment as assistant to a Mr. Malcom Mockingridge, with whom she earned several degrees in Dark Arts and explicit experience with the effects of both Draught of Living Death and Moonseed Poison, an experience she relished until Mockingridge's license was revoked three months prior to the end of her internship for the misuse of muggle's itching powder.

While inquiring at the Ministry about similar positions, Padma was approached by a man that seemed familiar. She realized why when Bill Weasley introduced himself and offered to take her across the world and back again to visit several worldwide Gringotts locations as a consultant. Padma accepted faster than her mouth could follow, and luckily Bill had been able to interpret the vague hand gestures that accompanied the babbling.

Meanwhile, the independent work that Padma had undertaken while utilizing Mockingridge's lab equipment had drawn the attention of the scientific community, including one Minister of Magic Cadmus Quickley who offered her a job in the Department of Mysteries. Two weeks prior to the last stop of her 9-month trip, the offer became a now-or-never opportunity. So, despite Bill's protests, she left to take the job.

Since she began working as a Ministry Unspeakable in May of 2000 one year ago, she has excelled in her field - not that many people outside the department would know. Much of their business was incredibly secretive, and occasionally, Padma realized how much of the myth was truth while lying awake in bed, trying to remember what her project had been last month.

* * *

**2001**

**February 7th: Padma Patil's flat, 5:57 a.m.**

Tuesday morning and Padma was getting up to return to the same job. Her flat was quiet as she padded into the kitchen and waved her wand at the stove. Two eggs flew out of the fridge, beat themselves midair, plopped themselves into a pan, and began to sizzle merrily. Passing the column of steam, she collected the pile of mail and flashing ads in front of the mail slot and sat down at the table to sort through them. Junk, junk, junk, junk, letter from Lisa in Japan that she'd open later, junk-

There was a knock at the door.

Frowning, Padma rose slowly and made a halfhearted attempt to fix her hair before she answered the door. The moment she recognized the person behind it, a look of shock spread over her face and she stood rooted to the spot. "Professor?" she asked incredulously.

Remus Lupin smiled mildly and gestured. "Might I come in?" Blinking in shock, Padma made a welcoming sweep of her arm and muttered something unintelligible. She followed him back into the flat and they sat together on the couches in the shabby living room.

"So, Ms. Patil, I heard you're making something of yourself," the professor said, folding his hands in his lap.

"I thought you died at Hogwarts," Padma blurted.

A laugh croaked deep in Lupin's throat and he leaned forward. "Ms. Patil, there are many interpretations of what transpired that night. It's hard to say which are true."

Padma stared hard at him for a long while, opening her mouth several times as if to say something but never producing any words.

"I know this must be difficult to process, but I feel that I - and the order - am in need of your services."

Blinking several times, she shook her head, wrinkling her forehead and held her head. "But, Professor-"

"Like I said, Ms. Patil, the details aren't important. What I need right now is something very important, and I need to know that I can trust you. Can I do that?"

"I-" It seemed that Padma was finally going to say something, but a tap at the window interrupted her. "Just one moment," she mumbled distractedly and rose, her face coloring suddenly when she realized she was still in her morning robe. With no way to fix that now, she hurried to the window where a familiar brown owl waited for her. She took the note, wondering what her intern could want so early in the morning, and scanned it quickly.

Padma -  
A man visited just a few minutes ago, claiming to have urgent business. I told him you weren't in, and that he could make an appointment later on. At first he said no and wanted your home address, but when I told him that wasn't available to the public, he agreed to schedule an appointment. I went to get the book, but when I got back, he had disappeared. He seemed pretty wild though, so I wanted to warn you.

"What's the urgency about?" she asked, crumpling the note and stowing it in the pocket of her dressing gown. It is six in the morning."

"To be honest, Ms. Patil, I wanted to reach you before other news did. If you're willing to listen, I have some news that might intrigue you and an offer. Are you interested?"

Padma considered him for a moment and nodded slightly. "If you say I might be."

She was.

_o_

**The Grapevine Chronicle - February 7th**  
_Latenight Break-in at Gringotts. Representative Goes Missing._  
On the eve of February 3rd, Gringotts suffered its first major break-in since the attempt on the Sorcerer's stone eight years ago. Large amounts of galleons and sickles have been taken from some of the more accessible vaults, but evidence hints that the burglars ventured farther into Gringotts than its director is willing to admit. "Nothing has been harmed, and patrons of Gringotts are encouraged not to worry," Head Goblin Ragnok II says. However, an inside source reports that auror John Dawlish, who suffered injury while in pursuit of the suspects, is "suspicious that this might have been a repeat attempt." Two days later, Gringotts Rep. Bill Weasley was reported missing. Aurors suspect that what seems like a violent kidnapping may be related to the break-in.

_o_

**Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries, 9:05 a.m.**

"Good morning, Cassandra," Padma murmured distractedly as she entered the office.

"Did the man this morning bother you?" Cassandra asked, looking worried that her job might be in jeopardy.

"No, no. Not at all," she murmured, anxiously shifting through the papers on her desk.

"Oh. Good." The blonde girl hovered uncertainly in front of her desk, watching Padma shift papers around.

Having had enough of her staring, Padma stopped and stared back. "Need something?"

Cassandra shook her head quickly, her blonde curls bouncing against her freckled cheeks. It was a good thing she was pretty, Padma often thought, or she'd get nowhere.

"No, um, I was just wondering if you needed anything," she said uncertainly.

"Um." Padma hesitated and, after a moment, decided it couldn't hurt. "Yes, do you know where my notes on the Gringotts banks went?"

"Yes, I think... I think they're back here..." She wandered over to the cabinets against the wall and began to sift through them.

* * *

**2002**

**February 8th: Harvestor in Muggle London, 4:56 pm**

_'Gringotts in Austria is completely secure, I found no faults with the security tapes. The basic three levels are all accounted for, including the legendary dragons in the dungeon. None of the vaults-'_

"I was a little afraid you weren't going to show."

Padma looked up quickly and saw Remus Lupin settling himself into the booth seat across from her. "Hello, Professor," she murmured. "I got the papers you asked for."

He smiled and reached across the table to pull the file folder towards him. "This is everything from your trip?" He didn't look up, but she nodded anyway. "What about the one in New York?" he asked, browsing through the sheets covered in her own thing handwriting.

"I didn't get to New York. They offered me the job before I got there."

Lupin's head jerked up and he looked a little shocked.

"What?" Padma asked in alarm, leaning forward to peer at the file. "What's wrong?"

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Lupin said "No, no, it's fine," he assured her, glancing once between her and the file. "It's great."

Although she was still suspicious, Padma let it go. Instead, she let it drop and leaned across the table to say, "With that settled, do you know how to handle muggle money? I haven't got a clue. I tried to tip the waitress, but she looked kinda shocked when she took the money."

Lupin began to laugh at her.

* * *

**March 10th: Padma Patil's apartment, Muggle London, 3:06 p.m.**

Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, _tap. Tap, TAP, TAP._

"I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming." Padma blinked as hard as she could attempting to rid her eyes of the film that had come over them while sleeping. Her brain hadn't yet caught up with her feet, and she felt a rush of light-headedness as she found herself standing. But the tapping persisted, despite her attempts to placate whoever was knocking so insistently.

Blearily, she started for the door, even getting so far as opening it before she realized that it wasn't the source of the sounds. Instead, it was a little brown owl at the window, looking agitated and hurried, with his claw against the pane.

Dazedly thinking that she may just find the strength for murder in her somewhere, Padma opened the window, relieved the owl of its burden, and had hardly lifted the envelope before it was off again, zipping through the night with speed she found somewhat awe-inspiring, at least in her current state somewhere between waking world and the sleeping one.

Then she turned to the letter, wondering who could be so rudely daft that they might hail her in the small hours of the morning with something that didn't apparently warrant an answer. There were only two sentences in cramped, thin writing on the slip of paper inside.

_Prepare for a breakfast meeting. How well do you know Harry Potter?_

* * *

Again, I'm not familiar with the UK. Is Harvestor a popular restaurant? I'm going for a kind of casual family place. Is it working?


	4. Who Harry Needed to Be to Cope

******Disclaimer:** The following is a work of fiction based on the characters and events of the Harry Potter series, written and trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership to any of the characters I have borrowed and tortured from her franchise. Said torturing occurs for the lone purpose of free entertainment and does not dare to call itself part of the official storyline. No financial profit will be gained from the creation and publication of such torturing. I'd like to express my gratitude to J.K. Rowling, without whom, my childhood would have been dull, and my fascination with the martyrdom, persecution, and distress of her characters unexplored.

* * *

**Alert: ****To anyone who has already been following this fic, please go back and read it again. I've massively reworked a lot of the plotline, which you will miss without rereading the first two chapters. Plus, the original first chapter has been split into two, so the previous second chapter is now the third chapter, and all of them have gotten longer. Good? Okay, you may go.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Who Harry Needed to Be to Cope**

* * *

**2001**

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Mr. Harry Potter, Sept. 20th at 3:37 p.m.**

I met someone in Australia 5 months ago. We've become something more than friends since then. I meant to tell you earlier, but was afraid and thought it would fall through, but as of two weeks ago, we are engaged.

I'm sorry you have to find out like this.

-Ginny

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 20th at 5:20 p.m.**

I want to talk to you face-to-face.

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Mr. Harry Potter, Sept. 20th at 5:43 p.m.**

That's not a good idea.

-Ginny

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 20th at 5:57 p.m.**

I don't fucking care. I'm going to be there in an hour.

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Mr. Harry Potter, Sept. 20th at 6:04 p.m.**

You won't have any luck, Harry. I'm not at the hotel anymore.

-Ginny

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 20th at 6:13 p.m.**

Then I'll come to the next match. You can't avoid me forever.

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Mr. Harry Potter, Sept. 20th at 6:28 p.m.**

I'm resigning in a week, Harry. It's not a good idea to meet in person.

-Ginny

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 20th at 6:43 p.m. Howler charm disarmed. Message is as follows. Uncertain words have been put in parentheses for your convenience:**

Why the (duck) would you do this to me Jenny| Was (is) I always a good husband | Did I give what you need | I deserve to (me) face to face | Give me that at least |

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 20th at 7:34 p.m.**

So you're ignoring me now?

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 20th at 7:49 p.m.**

This is childish. Answer me.

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 20th at 8:04 p.m.**

I mean it.

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 20th at 8:12 p.m.**

We at least have to meet to discuss divorce, don't we?

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 20th at 8:56 p.m.**

Fine. Have fun fucking your new toy.

* * *

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 21st at 3:26 a.m.**

Whatever I did, I'm sorry.

_o_

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 21st at 12:25 p.m.**

Are you going to come by to get your things?

* * *

**Sent through Appa-Owl to Seeker Ginny Weasley-Potter, Sept. 22nd at 8:36 a.m., Message Canceled by Sender**

I miss you.

* * *

**Hermione's Journal - October 20th**  
Harry went to see a therapist today. He only went after I got Kingsley involved, which is pretty much the only way I get him to do things like this. And by "this" I mean things that might confront him with irrefutable proof that everything isn't fine, the way he wants to think. His therapist suggested that we all write journals concerning our thoughts on Harry's illness - observations, doubts, concerns, etc. Of course, neither he nor Ron are all that enthusiastic about it, but they aren't enthusiastic about anything other than Quidditch.

I'll have to keep a close eye on him, I think. Even as we're all writing our first entries, he keeps looking at me, like he's waiting for me to turn my attention elsewhere.

_o_

**Harry's Journal - October 20th**  
Hermione's staring at me while I'm writing this. I'm still not sure how it's supposed to help, but with her here, I have to write something.

Yes, I collapsed last Thursday. It's not as if it's that big a deal. We knew there would be some long-term effects from Voldemort's curse. It isn't new information.

Except Hermione, McGonagall, and Kingsley all apparently think it is.

It's happened before, but I was fine about ten minutes afterwards. So obviously I was provoked. Malfoy's always been a git, and it's his fault I got all worked up. So really, there's nothing to worry about.

* * *

**Delivered by Appa-Owl to Mr. Harry Potter, Oct. 20th at 8:56 p.m  
**

Harry, please just leave it.

-Ginny

* * *

**Hermione's Journal - Nov. 1st**  
Harry's been getting worse ever since he went to Malfoy Manor. This morning he finally told us that it had begun 2 1/2 years ago. How he managed to hide this long, I'll never know, but there's no way he could have hid it much longer. He faints just about every week, and each time he's obviously distressed. I haven't mentioned it to Ron, but I think Ginny leaving hit him harder than I thought. I caught him crying over a paper three days ago, and when I asked about it, he clammed up and wouldn't say anything. He still wears his ring, which can hardly be an encouraging sign.

* * *

**Ron's Journal - Nov. 23rd**  
I don't know. Harry's been acting all fucky lately. We all know he has trouble with his left leg, but whenever any of us try to help him with anything, he snaps and starts to pout. Mione's going out of her mind with worry, especially since he moved back into his and Ginny's old flat. Kingsley tried to bully him into keeping some guards around the place, but before he could finish, Harry shut the door in his face and wouldn't come out. Then he started shouting about how he wouldn't let anyone kill themselves for him.

He might be going out of his mind.

* * *

**ERROR. We were unable to deliver your message to "GINNY WEASLEY-POTTER." There are not (currently) any person(s) by that name. Did you mean "JENNY WEASLEY-PORTER," "GINNY WEASLEY" or "GINNY PIPER"?**

**We are very sorry for the inconvenience, and suggest that you check the spelling and punctuation of the name.**

**Your aborted message is as follows:**

Please come back.

**Thank you for choosing Appa-Owl for your long-distance messaging purposes.**

**Timestamped Nov. 30th.**

* * *

**Hermione's Journal - Dec. 16th**  
It's his own fault really. But this only proves I was right to worry. He should have let Kingsley place some aurors in the flat with him, because now look where he is. Lying in a hospital bed again, unconscious. Obviously, they knew where he lived, he was never careful about that. And the wards weren't very strong. We're just lucky that Ron and Seamus were visiting, otherwise I fear they may have carried him off.

In other news, I've begun to screen Harry's mail after I saw the Appa-owl letter that bounced. After a few days of even darker depression, he tried to send it again, without the Potter at the end, but I threw it away. I haven't let him send anything since.

* * *

**2002**

**Harry's Journal - Jan. 14th**  
Yeah, so it happened again. Even with the safehouse Kingsley put me in. I really feel fine. A bit of a headache, but that's all. Besides, I could have taken them by myself. There were only three, after all.

* * *

**Ron's Journal - Feb. 27th**  
Harry's in the hospital again. I told Hermione that at this rate, we might as well just buy season passes, but she didn't seem to appreciate my sense of humor.

* * *

**March 11th, Present Day: St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries**

There was a troll beating on the inside of his skull. A very angry troll, at that. To Harry, there seemed to be no other explanation for the splitting pain that plagued him, unless someone had splattered his head on the pavement and then promptly sewed him back together, but he couldn't remember anything like that happening.

He blinked, and the troll beat harder. "Did it happen again, then?" he asked aloud, hoping there was someone nearby to hear him.

"Harry! You're awake!" A delighted Hermione appeared above him.

"Of course I'm awake," Harry muttered irritably. "I woke up every time before, didn't I?"

"Yes, but that's not the point," she replied matter-of-factly before her tone turned serious. "The nurse said that it's progressing."

Harry groaned. "Hermione, not this. I'm tired of hearing that I'm going to die. I've been hearing that ever since first year in Divination. Can't you just leave it?"

Frowning, Hermione shook her head. "I can't leave it alone unless you're going to deal with it, and I don't see that happening without some prompting."

He looked away, ignoring her the best he could.

Faced with the side of his head, Hermione sighed and relented, turning to more pressing matters. "There's been a new development I thought you might like to know about," she began, noticing the way that it immediately seized his attention. "They weren't all Death Eaters this time."

Eyebrows raised, Harry waited, and, when he noticed her pausing, gestured for her to go on.

"By the time we got there, two of them were gone, but when forensics ran a residue test, we found the Stupefy that one of them cast, and it matched up with an American auror from New York who went missing a month ago."

With a sigh, Harry sat up a little further, wincing as a shot of pain ran through his brain. "You mean the Death Eaters managed to convert an Auror?"

"It gets worse."

"Don't tell me."

"He was working one of the Unspeakable cases."

"Dammit."

Hermione looked at him with an unreadable expression. "You know, I'm not supposed to be telling you this."

"I'm not a china doll like those Ministry idiots keep trying to tell you. I can handle it."

"But your injury, Harry. If you'd just-"

"Hermione, I thought we went over this." His tone was resigned. "Can we just leave it?"

She looked as if she wanted to pursue the subject, but he was saved by a tall black man who entered only after a soft knock.

"Harry. I trust you're recovering well?" The man came to a stop beside his bed and checked the clipboard hanging on the wall.

"I trust I'm recovering better than that poor man you sent to guard me without my knowledge," Harry replied tiredly, finding himself lacking the strength for anything more vicious.

With a sigh, the man met Harry's faintly spiteful gaze. "For your protection," he clarified. "The Death Eaters are primarily attacking you, someone we can't afford to lose."

"What are you possibly going to lose?" Harry wondered bitterly. "A figurehead for your pointless campaign? A body taking up space? Another worry on your mind?" He ignored Hermione's scandalized exclamation and continued. "I don't know why you bother, Kingsley."

The man shook his head and changed the subject. "Unfortunately, there are no safehouses in which we can currently place you-"

"Good," Harry muttered.

"-but we are working on finding a suitable match as fast as we can manage."

To this, Harry didn't answer and simply stared at the acting Minister until, with a weary manner, he departed.

"Does he really think I'm going to go along with this?" Harry asked rhetorically, glaring at the door.

"He managed it last time," Hermione murmured softly, returning his angry gaze with a level stare. "Besides, Harry. He's right. We can't let them have you."

"Why not? It's not as if I'm good for anything anymore."

"Don't say that, Harry-"

"But it's true, and you know it! With this damn thing plaguing me, I can't imagine what good I could possibly do."

"The people need moral suppor-"

"Oh fuck the people. They don't give a fuck about me anymore! They all think Voldemort's gone, and so now I'm just a little trophy hero sitting on the shelf."

"Harry, you don't understa-"

"Fine."

Hermione sat back, looking hurt by the venom in his tone. He almost wanted to assure her that everything was alright, and that he didn't really mean anything he said, but that would be a lie, and he was done with those.

"I'll go get some lunch," she murmured softly, avoiding his gaze as she swept out of the room.

As the door swung shut behind her, Harry groaned quietly, massaging his temples. She would probably be in the elevator crying now, and when Ron came, he'd want to know why, and then probably get mad, and then everything would become a vicious circle. Maybe he ought to go get the nurse to put him out.

But instead, something more interesting walked through the door and smiled at him.

"Hi Harry, do you remember me?" the Patil sister asked.

* * *

Yes, we're finally in the present day! From now on, the fic should proceed without so many dates and articles and text-letters.

How do you like my Harry? Is he okay? (I've never felt all that confident in my Harrys.)

And I _promise _I'm not a Ginny-basher, I just... Well, just wait.

That's it for this update, I hope you enjoyed and reviewed!


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